


Those Nights

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [29]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 23:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Those nights when you crave someone, to be there at dawn, to wake with, 'cause aren't we all just looking for a little bit of hope these days?
Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Prompt Fics [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Those Nights

**Author's Note:**

> for valiantchildx, who was very correct on the assumption that this could be both angsty and fluffy
> 
> heavily inspired by Those Nights by Bastille, but what Nick/Greg fic have I written lately that isn’t inspired by Bastille on some level?

“Sleep over? Please?”

Greg throws his phone down and it bounces off of the mattress and onto the floor. He doesn’t care, though, doesn’t even want to know the answer to the text he just sent to the name he’s been trying not to think about for the past twenty four hours. 

It’s stupid, why did he even text _him _of all people? He probably wanted nothing to do with Greg, not now, not ever again, not after the things he said to him. 

He wishes he could take it all back. Wishes he could turn time back, hit the reset button. On the words they exchanged. On their relationship. On his entire career. On his entire life. Just…start over. 

He buries his head into his pillow, tries to forget, forget, _forget, _oh God, no wonder that man tries to repress everything, how does _he _even cope with this albatross burning in the back of his head? And really, the pain he was enduring in this moment was minuscule in comparison to the things he had been through. 

“Greg?” 

The voice, the familiar, soft voice entices a muffled whimper from Greg, he doesn’t move, but he feels the short hairs on his arms rise through his skin, he can smell Nick’s presence as it sinks down on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry, G,” he mutters into Greg’s ear, tugging at his shirt, he pulls Greg into his arms, Greg sniffles as he feels himself completely wrapped in Nick’s embrace. 

“Me too,” Greg mumbles as he moves his head from pillow suffocation to Nick’s chest suffocation. “For everything.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Fuck, no.” 

“Okay.” 

Nick nuzzles into Greg’s shoulder, his grip around the man tightens. 

“Maybe t’morrow,” Greg mutters. 

“Okay. I’ll be here. I’m a good listener.”

“Stay the night?” he asks again, though of course Nick already answered that question by coming here, but asks because he knows Nick’s pattern of insomnia, knows how he tends to leave sometimes, to escape the invisible entrapment that makes him feel confined to the bed, even if he’s trapped with the man he loves.

Trapped with Greg.

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere, Greg. Promise.” 


End file.
